Madness In Great Ones
by madnorthnorthwest
Summary: Fraser, who has been back in Canada for years, gets assigned to be Geoffrey Tennant's escort and has to go to Chicago. Due South  Slings & Arrows crossover
1. Chapter 1: Collision

**Chapter 1: Collision**

Moving slowly through the knee-deep snow, the mountie gently pushed him forward.  
"You better walk faster, there's a snowstorm coming."  
He sounded determined but friendly.  
"It's the clearest sky I've ever seen. How do you know?", asked the captive.  
"I can smell it. Come on"  
The other one just shook his head and continued stumbling through the snow, wondering how the mountie managed to walk without any difficulties. It was incredibly cold, something that he hadn't taken into consideration when preparing his plan. Suddenly the mountie stopped and shielded his eyes from the brightness reflected from the snow. He looked across the vast white landscape.  
"Ah there it is. Not far anymore", he announced then moved on, followed by the stumbling captive.  
Almost fifty minutes later, they finally reached the cabin that was the local R.C.M.P. detachment. A handful of four wheelers converted to snow quads were parked in front of the porch. They went inside. Pleasant warmth replaced the bone-chilling cold. A bunch of mounties looking at them as if they were from another planet. But his mountie didn't seem to care.  
"Fraser!", one of the female officers exclaimed when she spotted them. She came over and glanced at the captive, then turned to Fraser again.  
"I think there has been a fax for you", she announced and pointed to the chief's door  
Fraser nodded and turned to his captive. "You come with me."

The chief's face expressed exactly the same strange look when he saw Fraser and his captive coming in.  
"Who is that?", he asked carefully.  
"I caught him illegally trying to hunt down a moose."  
"A moose?", the chief repeated in disbelief.  
"That's right, sir."  
The captive stood next to Fraser staring at the ground and said nothing.  
""Fraser, it's 53 below. Nobody has left the detachment for three days unless they really had to. And you walk around out there just like that to arrest people for hunting down moose?!"  
Fraser nodded. "Illegally, sir."  
The chief frowned and looked at the captive again. "He's a boy, Fraser! Not older than fifteen"  
"Sixteen and a half actually", the boy remarked.  
"He had a weapon", Fraser added.  
The chief turned to Fraser again hastily. "Oh really?"  
"Yes, sir. If I may show you…"  
He rummaged around in his pocket for a moment then took out a wooden slingshot.  
"You must be kidding me, Constable!"  
"No sir, actually I…"  
"Constable Edwards", the chief suddenly yelled whereupon the same woman came in that had talked to Fraser before.  
"Ah Constable Edwards, would you please take this boy to his parents. They're probably worried already."  
"Of course, sir."  
"I run away from home to hunt down a moose, you know?", the boy mumbled while he was being led outside. "My dad said that…"  
The door was closed before he could end his sentence. Now Fraser and the chief were alone.  
"Well then", the chief began. "A fax came in a few hours ago."  
Fraser had an odd feeling of déjà vu. He stood patiently while the chief took the fax from his desk and handed it to him. Apparently they're looking for a qualified officer for someone as some kind of escort to…"

---

"Chicago?!", a baffled voice was heard from the office.  
"Chicago", affirmed the dark-haired man across from him.  
"But that's….why Chicago? And why me?"  
"Because they've especially requested you."  
He couldn't believe it. He hadn't been to Chicago in years and he certainly didn't want to ever go back. He had some very weird memories of that city. He was still deeply in thought when the door was opened and a woman came in. "Ok, he's gone", she explained. "You can go on whenever you're ready."  
"Thank you Anna", the man behind the desk responded. Anna looked at him in confusion because she obviously hadn't addressed him. But since the other man didn't react at all, she just frowned and left.  
As soon as she was gone, the dark-haired man walked around the desk and looked at the other one. "Alright, look. I have to go now. Your flight leaves at 9.25 tomorrow morning. Don't miss it. We've organized an escort. You'll meet him at the airport. He's coming all the way from the Northwest."  
The dark-haired man smiled and left the room. A few minutes passed before Anna came back in.  
"Uhm, I don't want to rush you, but they're waiting. We can't reschedule rehearsal again."  
Finally he reacted and looked at her. She wasn't sure he also saw her though.  
"Please Geoffrey", she added, smiled encouraging and left.

---

When Fraser left the cabin the snow storm had already begun. Thick snowflakes, falling from the sky were swirled around by a wind constantly gaining strength. Next to the quads, Constable Edwards was sitting in her Jeep, together with the boy, trying to start the car. The motor gasped for a second, then died again.  
Fraser walked placidly towards the car and opened the driver's door.  
"Motor won't start", Edwards explained, looking desperate.  
Fraser glanced at the boy then at her again. "I could take him to his parents."  
Edwards shrugged. "If you don't mind."  
"Oh no.", he waved at the boy who got out of the car and walked up to him.  
"Very well", Fraser said. "What's your name?"  
"Simon."  
"Simon, very nice."  
Simon smiled. "Yes, after Simon Fraser."  
Fraser couldn't help but smile as well. "Ah, I see."  
Followed by Simon, Fraser began to walk towards a small shack next to the cabin.  
"Do you like dogs, Simon?", Constable Edwards heard her colleague ask while they disappeared into the shack.

---

Geoffrey walked out of the theatre. Rehearsal had been a nightmare again. One week left and his Earl of Kent was a drunken asshole who refused to wear pants during his appearances. But what did he expect, it could only get worse. His _Hamlet_ with Jack Crew had been a huge success. That was impossible to top anyway. Crew, who had been in Chicago to promote "Moving Target", must have spread the word. What an idiot. Now they wanted him, Geoffrey Tennant to go down there and help with this years Shakespeare festival. Unbelievable. Geoffrey sighed and got into the car. One minute later he was on his way home in order to pack some things. At least King Lear would be somebody else's problem for a while.

The next morning had started very busy. Geoffrey had already been on his way to the airport when it occurred to him that he had forgotton to pack his _Twelfth Night_. So he had to drive all the way back. Now, back at the airport he glanced at his watch nervously. 8.46, he'd better hurry. He wasn't exactly sure where to meet his escort. All that Anna could tell him was that he was a mountie named Benton Fraser. "Benton", Geoffrey mumbled while dragging his suitcase behind him through the towards the Air Canada check-in desk. "What a stupid name."  
"Good morning, sir", the woman behind the desk greeted him, smiling way to cheerfully for this early hour. "If you would put your suitcase on there please…"  
"No", he replied abruptly. "I'm still waiting for someone."  
"Oh ok", she replied and asked the next potential passenger to step forward. Geoffrey turned around and scanned the hall. Couples with children, single men and women trying to avoid eye contact, an old man with no leg. Geoffrey was just thinking about how he might have lost it when someone from behind him called his name. He turned around and saw a man about his size and about his age. The man was wearing a red RCMP uniform.  
"Geoffrey Tennant?", the officer repeated.  
Geoffrey stretched out his hand. "You must be Constable Fraser", he asked.  
"Yes. Pleased to meet you."  
They shook hands. The mountie didn't seem to have a suitcase. Instead he carried a huge backpack. He had obviously been waiting already.  
"Well, I think we should check-in", Fraser noted, took Geoffrey's suitcase and put it on the assembly line.  
Next, they had to go through security to get on the plane. Fraser got through smoothly. Geoffrey however had to go through three times until they finally discovered what caused the security system to go off. The artistic director carried a whole bunch of razor blades in his coat's pocket. Of course they took them away.  
"Razor blades?"; Fraser asked puzzled when they moved on.  
The other one just shrugged. "Sucking them helps me calm down", he explained as if he was talking about candy.  
Fraser walked beside him in silence.  
"I hate to fly", Geoffrey added trying to explain himself.

---

When they were ready to be boarded, Geoffrey was nowhere to be seen. He had excused himself to go to the washroom. That had been 20 minutes ago. Fraser waited five more minutes for the artistic director to show up. When he didn't, Fraser decided to go look for him. He passed the long line of people who couldn't wait to get into the plane, just to go on waiting in there.  
The washroom looked deserted. The mountie checked every cubicle. Only the last one was occupied.  
"Mr. Tennant, is that you in there?", he asked in a low voice.  
"Uhm yes, Constable", replied Geoffrey. "I'll be right there. It's just that I lost my glasses and they fell into…" ah never mind, I'll be right there."  
"Do you need help, sir?"  
Some chattering was heard from inside the cubicle.  
"Nah, that's ok Constable. I'm fine."  
"Of course. Okay, I will wait outside", Fraser promised, then left.  
Another five minutes later, Geoffrey eventually showed up and they were the last to line up.  
"Did you get your glasses back, sir?", Benny asked kindly.  
Geoffrey raised an eyebrow and looked at him as if he were crazy.  
"Glasses?", he said. "What glasses?"  
"Well, the glasses that you said fell into the…"  
"That's nuts! I don't even wear glasses."  
"Ah", said Fraser. Slowly but surely he was getting a little suspicious regarding this man's sanity. He knew what was said about Geoffrey Tennant. Of course, he had no right to judge this man on account of what was being propagated by the media.

They were assigned two seats in the back of the Airbus A319, right in front of the lavatory. Fraser didn't mind, Geoffrey, of course, did. So he kept swearing like a trooper throughout the entire flight. They were somewhere near the border when after a _"You see that, this guy is doing it on purpose. He went 10 minutes ago. Asshole!" _followed by a _"Can't these idiots hold it for a few hours?!"_ , Fraser managed to turn to his companion and smiled, saying: "They're going to dispense peanuts soon."  
"What?", Geoffrey said in a strange tone.  
"See the small wagons?", Fraser explained. "I love peanuts."

---

This was just horrible. Of all the seats in this damn plane they got the ones right in front of the goddamn lavatory. Richard must have done that on purpose. Probably an act of revenge for that little….incident… in the bar last week. On the other hand, wasn't it Anna who got to book flights and such things? Anna wouldn't do it on purpose, Anna was great. Unless of course, Richard had had a finger in the pie. Oh great, another passenger who had to use the lavatory. Geoffrey sniffed.  
"Can't these idiots hold it for a few hours?!", he complained, addressing Fraser.  
When he turned to the aisle again, Oliver was standing there, next to Geoffrey's seat.  
Geoffrey sank into his seat, tipped his head back and clutched the armrest as if he were expecting the plane to crash.  
"It's a sin that you didn't book me a seat as well", Oliver greeted Geoffrey. Geoffrey closed his eyes.  
"_They're going to dispense peanuts soon",_ he heard Fraser's voice.  
When he opened his eyes again, Oliver was still there.  
"God, he's so polite and decent", Oliver remarked.  
Geoffrey frowned. "What?"  
"…_I love peanuts."_  
"The mountie", Oliver explained. "I like him. Somehow I think he'd make a great Horatio."  
"Well, I don't."

---

"You don't?", Fraser repeated in confusion. Just now he noticed the unusual way Geoffrey was sitting in his seat. When he looked at him, Geoffrey returned to a normal position."Peanuts", the director replied.  
"Oh you don't like them?", Fraser asked.  
Geoffrey just shook his head.  
Benny decided it was easier to leave Tennant alone for a while. So he just nodded and leaned back in his seat. As he was staring at the empty seat in front of him, Ray Vecchio appeared without warning. He now occupied the seat in front of Fraser and had turned around in order to be able to talk to him.  
"You know Fraser, I think this guy is nuts", Ray noted shrewdly.  
Fraser nervously started to scratch his forehead.  
"You must admit he's probably a madman. Wouldn't surprise me if he's going to cause a riot in here."  
More nervous scratching.  
A flight attendant appeared with a small wagon and the peanuts.  
"Come on Benny", Ray continued. "Being dead isn't as crowded as you might think. You gotta talk to me every now and then."  
"This isn't a good moment", Fraser responded to Ray.  
"Oh I'm sorry sir. I'll come back later", the flight attendant apologized and moved on.  
Geoffrey frowned. "I thought you loved peanuts."  
"Oh I do love peanuts", Fraser replied. "It's just that I…well I wasn't talking to…"  
Fraser coughed slightly.  
"Have I mentioned that I saw your Prince Hal?", he quickly changed the subject.  
Geoffrey looked puzzled. "Well no, but..."  
"I only heard about your Hamlet though."  
Geoffrey chuckled. "Everybody seems to have heard about _that_."  
He fell silent.  
"I think it's also the reason why they got me an escort."  
He fell silent again.  
"Madness in great ones, must not unwatch'd go?", Fraser quoted.  
Geoffrey ran his tongue along his lower lip and grinned insanely.  
"Well", Fraser said. "It's not like I'll be by your side all the time. So don't worry."  
"Right. I heard you'll be staying at the Canadian consulate?"  
"That's right, sir."  
"Interesting. And why would you do that?"  
"I used to live at the consulate."  
Geoffrey laughed out loud. "You lived there? And they call me mad?!" he paused. "What the hell does a mountie do in Chicago anyway?"  
Now Fraser ran his tongue along his lower lip.  
"Oh, that's an intriguing story you might enjoy. I first went to Chicago on the trail of the killers of my father and for reasons that don't need…"  
Just then, the flight attendant came back.  
"Would you like some peanuts now, sir?, she asked shyly.  
"Certainly", Fraser said and took the little bag she offered him. "Thank you kindly ma'am."  
Geoffrey declined an offer, so she moved on.  
"Thank you kindly?!", Geoffrey repeated. "A simple 'thanks' would have done, don't you think?"  
Fraser carefully opened his bag of peanuts. "Possibly. I'm sorry, sir."  
The director watched him eat.  
"Yeah right, well never mind."  
Silence.  
"You know, when I was a kid, I wanted to become a mountie", Geoffrey added after a while.  
Fraser was positively surprised. He wasn't sure what to say. But Tennant seemed to be wanting to talk, so he talked.  
"Really?", he replied. "What happened?"  
"I ended up playing one on stage and fell in love. With the stage, with a woman…so I stayed."  
Insecure silence followed.  
"I liked the uniform", the director finally said.  
Fraser almost smiled and ate the last peanut.  
"I'm sure it suits you", he said.  
Tennant shook his head vehemently. "No no, believe me. I can't wear hats."

---

Geoffrey was really glad when they were finally back on the ground. Humans just weren't supposed to fly. He walked down the gangway next to Fraser. Now they'd have to pick up their stuff at the luggage carousel and then find his hotel. What was it called? He just couldn't remember. Was it a Best Western? No, Inn something, some kind of 'Inn'.  
"Fraser", he said and looked aside. The man was gone. What the…?  
Geoffrey stopped and turned around. "Fraser?", he said. People were passing by, looked at him but kept walking. Then he spotted the red uniform and the striking hat."  
The mountie was crouching next to a little girl, talking to her.  
"Benton", Geoffrey tried once more while walking back to them.  
When he got there, Fraser looked up at him.  
"This is Lucy. She seems to have lost her parents", he introduced the little girl.  
"Right", the artistic director responded, smiling that insane smile. "Too bad. Let's go."  
Geoffrey moved on.  
Fraser jumped up to stop him. "Don't you think we should help her?", he asked.  
"No. We have to get our luggage."  
Geoffrey moved on.  
"But sir. It will only take a few minutes. We just have to take her to the next information desk. I'm sure her parents are already waiting there."  
Geoffrey finally stopped. "Alright, if you can't help it. But if they aren't, too bad."  
"Understood."  
Fraser nodded happily and took the child by the hand. Once again, all the other passengers were already gone and they were the last coming out of the gangway. Fortunately the information desk wasn't far and Fraser had been right, the girl's parents were already waiting and couldn't thank them enough for helping their daughter. Geoffrey however, literally dragged the mountie away to the luggage carousel.  
There were still people at the carousel, looking out for their suitcases and bags. Fraser found his backpack pretty soon while Geoffrey had to wait a little longer. When it eventually showed up and he was ready to move on, he noticed that Fraser was gone once more. This time he was on the other side of the carousel, helping an old woman with her suitcase. Then he helped a man, then another woman.  
"Hey, are you done? You can't help everyone, come on, let's go", Geoffrey yelled whereupon Fraser wished that woman a good day and joined Geoffrey.


	2. Chapter 2: Welcome to Chicago…again

**Chapter 2: Welcome to Chicago…again**

Outside, Fraser called them a taxi. Geoffrey blinked when he stepped out into the bright sunshine of late morning. It was a wonderful day here in Chicago. A yellow cab stopped and Fraser opened the car's door. But instead of getting inside, he held the door open for a young couple that was also waiting for a taxi. Geoffrey glanced at the crowd of people around them waiting for one as well. This would take forever. He sighed, rushed over to the mountie and held back the couple.  
"Oh no no no no Fraser", he said. "Stop that, would you?"

---

Benny looked at Geoffrey for a moment. This man was a closed book to him. But he nodded and apologized to the couple for not being able to let them have his taxi. The couple, that had been wondering why he did it in the first place anyway, shrugged it off and stepped back. Fraser carefully placed Geoffrey's suitcase and his backpack into the trunk. Then they both got in and the taxi drove off.  
Inside Geoffrey began rummaging through his pockets. Fraser observed him patiently.  
"Good lord, Fraser", Tennant then addressed him. "What's wrong with you. I mean you are so…"  
The mountie listened attentively.  
"Ah, very well. There it is", his client announced suddenly without finishing his previous sentence and got out a piece of paper. "I knew I had it somewhere."  
He handed his finding to the driver and told him that this would be the address of the hotel they wanted to go to.

The hotel had already looked very nice from the outside and inside even more so. But Fraser didn't regret his plan to stay at the consulate. Actually he was even looking forward to it.  
"Very nice hotel", he said to Geoffrey as they entered his room.  
"That's what I thought."  
Tennant threw his suitcase on the bed, opened it and began to unpack his clothes while Fraser looked around in the room. Immediately the balcony attracted his attention and he regarded it with critical interest for a while.  
"What?!", Geoffrey said when he noticed the critical look on the other man's face. "Afraid I could jump?"  
The director laughed.  
Benny stepped closer to the balcony door.  
"Do you mind?", he asked pointing at the balcony.  
"Not at all."  
So Fraser opened the door, stepped outside and closed it behind him. The warm sunlight fell on his face when he turned around, leaned over the balustrade and peered down.  
"Beautiful isn't it?", he heard Vecchio, say. His friend was standing next to him, looking across the urban landscape of skyscrapers. "It's good to be back Benny", he continued. "This is just _wow_. This is home, man. I mean, can you smell it? It smells like home."  
Ray cheerfully took a deep breath.  
Fraser looked down at the busy streets and frowned. "It smells like exhaust fumes and fast food", he said puzzled.  
Ray was enthusiastic. "Exactly! That's what I mean."  
"How can you smell anyway? I thought you were dead", Fraser remarked.  
"Well yes Benny. I'm dead, not disabled."

---

Geoffrey was just taking out a folded shirt from his suitcase when his look fell on Fraser standing on the balcony. The man seemed to be indulged in reminiscences. Or was he? Geoffrey watched him for a while. Was he talking to someone? It looked almost like he was talking to someone but there was nobody else on the balcony. Could it be that this guys….no, impossible...or maybe not...  
The phone rang and interrupted his thoughts. Geoffrey shook his head as if to clear it from some weird ideas, quickly put the shirt into the closet and answered the phone.

He was in the middle of a conversation when Fraser came back in. When the mountie saw that Geoffrey was on the phone, he quietly closed the door and walked over to a chair where he sat down and waited till he was done.  
A few minutes later, Geoffrey hang up and Fraser jumped up to depart.  
"Well", he said. "I guess I'll leave you alone for now, let you settle in. And I'll head off to the consulate to let them know I'm here."  
"Right", Geoffrey replied hesitantly. "Well, the guy who just called says I don't have to be at the theater before four. So I think I'll come with you if you don't mind."  
Fraser smiled and shook his head. "Not at all. Off we go!"

Fraser had decided for them to walk to the consulate since, as he said, it wasn't very far. Geoffrey had agreed, it was a nice day anyway, so why not? It was lunchtime by now and Geoffrey had gotten really hungry a while back, so he decided to address that topic.  
"Hey Fraser, aren't you hungry?", he asked by the way. "You haven't had anything except those peanuts."  
"Actually no. That's more than enough. I had nothing to eat for weeks once. I was way up north. I tried to hunt. But there was nothing to hunt. For days I ate nothing but bark. Terribly dry stuff." He paused, then, as if it was a convincing counter-argument, added: "Anyway, you haven't had anything either. Even less, because you didn't want peanuts."  
Geoffrey didn't say anything.  
"Oh!", Fraser said. "I am terribly sorry, sir. I didn't realize….well there's this place where I used to go. It's on our way anyway. We can go there if you want."  
Geoffrey nodded enthusiastically. He didn't care, as long as he'd get something to eat.

Fraser was right, it really was on their way, 30 minutes ahead. They only had to cross seven more streets, walk through two parks, and pass three banks. Geoffrey felt like he was starving when they eventually reached it. They sat down in a corner by a window.  
"So what do you recommend?", the director asked Fraser when the waiter came over to take their orders.  
"Well, the seafood special is delicious", the mountie replied.  
"Really?"  
"Yes."  
"Are you going to eat that?"  
"No."  
Fraser briefly looked at the menu, then added: "I think I'm going to take the Kung Pao Chicken."  
Geoffrey nodded. "Sounds great. Me too."  
The waiter wrote something down and left.  
"So", Geoffrey said while they where waiting. "Do you have a wife or so waiting for you at home?"  
Fraser, who had been literally reading the menu, looked up at him in surprise.  
"I noticed you're not wearing a ring", Geoffrey added quickly.  
Fraser smiled. "Oh, no that's right. Very perceptive, sir."  
Geoffrey wasn't sure whether this was supposed to be a compliment or not.  
"I used to have a wolf though", Fraser said as if to make up for the missing but obligatory woman in his life.  
"Ah!", Geoffrey responded puzzled.  
"He died two years ago", the mountie explained.  
"I'm sorry."  
They didn't talk any more while waiting on their meals nor while they were eating and  
exchanged only a few words on their way to the consulate.

The consulate was a pretty small, yet somehow impressive looking brick building. If it hadn't been for the huge Canadian flag, Geoffrey wouldn't have recognized it as the Canadian Consulate. In front of the consulate stood a motionless mountie. Geoffrey went up to him until he was only a few centimetres away and eyed him closely. The man didn't react at all.  
"Good day Constable", Geoffrey greeted the guy in red serge. No answer.  
"Why doesn't he answer?", the diector addressed no one in particular.  
"I believe he's standing guard, sir.", Fraser explained.  
"But he doesn't even blink."  
"No, well probably makes it more likely to detect anything suspicious early enough."  
Geoffrey stepped back next to his mountie.  
"That's nuts!", he noted. "Who the hell would do something like that?!"  
Silence.  
It took a while until Geoffrey noticed Fraser's strange look.  
"Oh did you…"  
"Yes", Fraser said quickly.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"  
"Well, let's go inside, shall we?"  
"Sure."  
Fraser seemed kind of hurt. Geoffrey felt somewhat bad about this. He stayed way back when following Fraser up the stairs.

---

From the outside the consulate still looked exactly the way he remembered it. Fraser had just knocked when a church bell rang in the distance, announcing a full hour. As if he had just come out of a coma, the guard standing mountie suddenly moved and came up the stairs.  
"Constable Benton Fraser, I suppose", he said.  
"That's right", Fraser replied and, with his ever friendly smile, offered him a hand. The other man however didn't smile and instead of taking Fraser's hand, turned to Geoffrey.  
"And who are you if I may ask?"  
"Geoffrey Tennant", the director introduced himself.  
"Ah well, pleased to meet you. I didn't think you'd come to the consulate."  
"Yeah," Geoffrey said. "But I still have some time left before I have to be at the theatre. So I thought I could go with Fraser."  
The consulate mountie nodded.  
"I see, okay I'll open up."  
So he did and the three of them went inside. Fraser looked around. Lots of memories suddenly flooded back. He could see Turnbull with an apron and his ratatouille coming out of the kitchen as if it had just happened yesterday. He smiled.  
"I'm afraid the inspector isn't here at the moment. He should be back anytime now though", the other mountie's voice interrupted Benny's thoughts, who now tried to recall who was in charge here now. He couldn't remember having heard anything about that though and thus concluded that it was nobody he knew. It did make him a little sad that it wasn't Thatcher anymore.  
"I was advised to prepare your old office for you", the young man said harshly. "I'm sure you'll be able to find it on your own. So if you'll excuse me, I have to go do some…well, consulate stuff."  
That being said, he quickly vanished into the kitchen.  
Fraser just raised an eyebrow while Geoffrey said: "Wow, he seems to be pissed off."  
Fraser nodded thoughtfully. "I sensed that too, although I wouldn't put it that way."  
"No, of course you wouldn't."  
Standing in the hall like that, the two men looked a little lost.  
"I'm sure he doesn't mean it. Maybe he is extremely busy or particularly stressed at the moment", Fraser desperately tried to excuse the man's behaviour.  
"Yeah, or maybe he hates us."  
Fraser didn't object. Instead, he turned around and began to walk down the hall to his old office.  
The office hadn't changed much. In fact it looked pretty much the way it had looked when he had left. It didn't seem to be used anymore. He immediately concentrated his attention on the closet. Slowly he moved towards it. He wasn't sure why he expected to find something inside and he knew that it was absurd. Yet, he opened the closet and stared inside for a seemingly endless moment. It was just a closet; stuffed with blankets, some clothes and a lamp.  
"What is it?", he heard Tennant say, who had obviously stayed in the hall a little longer.  
Fraser looked at him hoping Tennant would not see the disappointment in his eyes.  
"Just a closet", he answered not entirely convinced himself. "Nothing more, just a closet."

---

The room was small and dusty. Geoffrey stepped inside to stand next to Fraser.  
"And you _lived_ in here?", he said in disbelief.  
"That's right, sir. Right here in this room."  
Fraser closed the closet door.  
"But there's not even a bed in here", Geoffrey went on.  
"No, I slept on the floor most of the time."  
Slowly but surely Geoffrey began to feel perfectly sane next to this man. While Fraser was busy finding a nice place for his backpack, Geoffrey curiously looked into the closet. He frowned. It was really just a stupid closet.  
A moment later, Fraser was ready to go and they left the office. On their way out they came upon the consulate mountie again.  
"I'm done, so we're leaving now", Fraser said smiling.  
"Good, good, very good", replied the other man.  
Fraser kept smiling. "I'll be back in the evening I guess."  
The not so busy looking young man nodded. "I will inform the inpector when he returns."  
"Thank you kindly."  
Geoffrey shook his head when he heard Fraser say that again. Unlike him, he just raised a hand as they left.

---

This time they did take a taxi. Traffic was insane though. Benny had almost forgotton how many cars there were in Chicago. Knowing that he'd be back home and surrounded by the familiar silence soon however, he could actually enjoy the experience. They were taken to the theater first where Geoffrey got out. He'd be on time. Fraser told him he'd pick him up in the evening. Not that he thought Geoffrey could get himself in trouble, but this wasn't New Burbage, or Toronto for that matter. This was Chicago, a little security wouldn't hurt. And the RCMP would certainly be in trouble if the New Burbage Theater lost another artistic director because of one of their officers. Too much caution was probably better than too little.  
When Geoffrey went off into the theatre, the taxi continued its way to the police station where Fraser had spent so much time during his time here in Chicago. A huge truck stood in front of the station. The taxi driver couldn't park the car anywhere, so Fraser paid him in Canadian dollars and got out. The driver complaint when he noticed the money wasn't American and Fraser wanted to explain it, but the people in the cars behind them already got impatient and so his taxi driver accepted the money and drove off. Fraser apologized to the waiting cars by waving, then disappeared into the station with the hat in his hand.  
The station was just as crowded as the streets and Fraser almost had to cut his way through in the narrow corridors. He couldn't wait to see Ray. They wrote each other letters every now and then and even talked on the phone sometimes when Fraser was close enough to a phone at home. But they hadn't seen each other for years and he hadn't told Ray that he would be coming down to Chicago. This was supposed to be a surprise. Reaching the familiar room with all the police men's desks in it, he wasn't so sure anymore if that really was such a good idea. What if Ray wasn't glad to see him? He didn't even know what his friend was up to. It had been almost 6 months that he had received the last letter from Ray. It had been the letter in which Ray, or rather Stan, had told him about Ray and Stella Vecchio's sudden death. He meant to reply soon, but got stuck in his cabin for 2 weeks because of a snow storm and after that he had spent most of his time outside chasing a group of criminals.  
Fraser stood in the door and scanned the squad room. Busy people were running around, carrying file folders or a cup of coffee. He spotted Huey who was sitting at his desk. But there was no sign of Ray, he couldn't see his desk from here though. Absorbed in thought, he entered the room and, in passing, put his hat on a vacant desk nearby. He stopped pretty much in the middle of the room and could finally see Ray's desk. His friend wasn't there, so he headed for the desk to sit down on the visitor's side and observed two officers arguing over a donut. Dief certainly would have loved to clear the situation. Benny lowered his head. Once again he realized how much he missed the wolf.

---

Francesca Vecchio was stressed out. When would they stop sending her for coffee? She was certainly able to handle more serious things. Unmotivated she walked down the corridor to the squad room. She really needed some time off. Today was one of these days where she regretted that she hadn't gone to the Academy. But when she had heard that, when firing a weapon, gunshot residue settles on the shooter's hand, she had decided to rather keep her current position here at the station and had also made an appointment to get her fingernails done the very same day.  
Frannie stepped into the squad room, walked around her desk and sat down. Only then she noticed that hat on her desk. She raised an eyebrow. She knew this kind of hat, she had seen it before, lots of times. And of course she would never forget where she knew it from. Francesca took the hat and turned it in her hands. A certain tingly feeling rushed through her. Could it be possible? Excitedly, she turned around looking out for a red uniform. She saw two officers fighting over a donut, Huey getting up from his desk and walking out of the room and….oh my god. A huge smile appeared on Francesca Vecchio's face.

---

"Fraser?"  
Benny raised his head and looked directly at Francesca Vecchio's tummy. Quickly, he jumped up to face her.  
„Francesca!", he said in surprise.  
"Oh my god, is that really you, Frase?"  
"I'm afraid so."  
Fraser stood perfectly still, his hands behind his back. Frannie looked at him as if he was a ghost.  
"I am so sorry about Ray", the mountie finally broke the silence.  
Frannie looked down. "Yes we were all very shocked. But I'm sure he's in a better place now."  
"I'm not so sure about that", Fraser mumbled.  
"What?"  
"Oh, oh nothing."  
Frannie looked up again. "You know, we expected you to come to the funeral."  
Benny began scratching his forehead and explained how he had wanted to but couldn't since Kowalski's letter had arrived too late, due to that horrible snow storm. When he was done, Francesca smiled and said: "Oh, I'm glad. We thought you didn't want to, or that you had forgotton about us."  
"No, I could never forget my friends, Francesca."  
Frannie squeaked. Her eyes sparkled.  
"So, how have you been? Girlfriend? Married?"  
Fraser uneasily shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Just not a topic he felt comfortable talking about. Just then, he saw Kowalski approaching behind Francesca Vecchio.  
"Frannie did you…", Ray began, then realized who she was talking to. "…Fraser!?"  
He stopped next to Frannie and pushed her aside.  
Benny grinned like an idiot. "Hi Ray!"  
"Fraser! Partner!"  
Ray stepped forward and hugged the Canadian.  
"What are you doing here and why didn't you tell me you were coming?"  
Finally, Fraser relaxed a bit.  
"It was supposed to be a surprise", he explained.  
Ray laughed. "Oh well, I _am _surprised. And I'm glad. So, you're on vacation? Then why the uniform?"  
"I'm on duty."  
Ray raised an eyebrow. "Sooooo, you're back and working at the consulate?"  
Fraser shook his head. "I'm escorting a Canadian director."  
"Sounds like fun", Ray responded. "So he's into movies?"  
Fraser chuckled which made Frannie smile that fan girl smile.  
"No no", Fraser explained. "Theater. He's here to help a little with a play that will be shown at the Shakespeare festival."  
Suddenly Ray's expression changed and he looked somewhat disturbed.  
"The Shakespeare festival?", he repeated.  
"Yes Ray. Why? Is there anything..."  
"Kowalski! Get in here! Right now!", a familiar voice interrupted them. It was Lieutenant Welsh who obviously wanted to see Ray in his office.  
Ray turned to the office, then to the mountie again.  
"Alright, we can talk about this later. I have to go talk to the Lieutenant now. You can come with me if you want. Won't take long."  
Something seemed to occur to him suddenly and he added: "Actually, you should come with me."  
Fraser nodded and followed his friend into Welsh's office.

„Detective!", Welsh addressed Ray. "How come you have been working this case for two weeks and we still don't have anything?"  
"Well sir", Ray replied confident. "Actually I probably just got a lot closer to solving this case", Ray announced and pointed at Fraser.  
Welsh looked surprised. "Constable? Haven't seen you in a while. Thought you went back to Canada."  
"That's right sir. I did. I'm in Chicago for a while only."  
The Lieutenant got up from his chair and walked around his desk to shake hands with Fraser.  
"Well, that's great I guess. Welcome to Chicago…again."


	3. Chapter 3: Schillaci

**Chapter 3: Schillaci**

Welsh looked at Ray again.  
"So, how does this help you with your case?", he asked in confusion.  
Something that Fraser was wondering as well.  
"He's escorting a director who is here to help a little with a play that will be shown at the Shakespeare festival", Kowalski repeated his friend's words.  
"Ooooohhhh!", the Lieutenant said who obviously understood now. Fraser, however, didn't.  
"I'm sorry", he said, looking back and forth between the two Americans. "I'm afraid I don't quite understand. What case is this you keep talking about?"  
Welsh began walking up and down the office.  
"Have you ever heard the name Schillaci?", Welsh asked.  
The mountie thought about that for a moment, then nodded. "When I was eight, I met a boy once whose name was Marcello Schillaci."  
He paused.  
"And?", Ray pushed.  
"Nothing. His family had immigrated from Sicily. He taught me some Sicilian."  
"That's interesting", Ray replied unimpressed.  
Welsh shook his head. "Anyway", he continued. "The Schillaci family I am talking about resides here in Chicago and they are very influential. Unfortunately they spend lots of their time threatening and blackmailing people. Now, if someone doesn't play along, that person often ends up having a deadly accident."  
"Or being shot", Kowalski added. „This is done by henchmen of course. So the Schillaci's are off the hook."  
"I supose you know how it works", Welsh ended the elucidation.  
Benny nodded. "But I don't see how I could help."  
Welsh finally stopped walking.  
"Right", he responded. "Well, reliable sources say that Mr. Schillaci would like to become mayor in order to influence some big but yet unknown project he's planning. There's just this one little problem: We already have a mayor and he's not going to vacate his position any time soon."  
"Unless of course", Kowalski went on. "He dies."  
Benny nodded again. "Ah I see. You think they want to kill the mayor."  
Welsh started walking again. "That's what our sources tell us."  
"But", Benny remarked. "I still don't see how I can help."  
"That's easy", Ray answered. "Mr. Schillaci has a son who, as I've been told, is a very bad actor. Yet he'll be playing the role of Romeo at this years' Shakespeare festival. Due to his father's influence, I would say."  
Ray smiled at his friend. "So I thought, your director could keep his ears open a little."  
For a moment it was silent. Ray already thought Fraser didn't want to be involved and thus wouldn't answer. But eventually, Benny spoke.  
"I really can't speak for Mr. Tennant. But I am quite sure he'll be willing to help. You'll have to ask him yourself, though. I could bring him here tomorrow morning so you can explain the situation to him."  
Welsh and Kowalski exchanged looks, then agreed.  
"Very well", Fraser said. "I have to go buy a flashlight now, since the one in my old office doesn't seem to work anymore, and I also need some other things, then I'll have supper somewhere and then I'll have to go pick up Mr. Tennant at the theater."  
Ray said that he'd have to call his 'source' again now, and so they left the Lieutenant's office together.  
Outside, Fraser repeated that he'd be back tomorrow with Geoffrey Tennant, and then walked over to Francesca's desk to get his hat. She was holding it in her hands. She seemed to be deeply in thought.  
"Excuse me, Francesca", he addressed her.  
Frannie looked at him startled. "Oh, Frase, it's you."  
She put the hat back on the desk quickly. "I'm sorry", she apologized. "I just wanted to make sure, nobody steals the hat."  
Fraser smiled friendly. „Very nice of you, Francesca. Thank you kindly!"  
He took his hat.  
"See you tomorrow", he said and turned to leave.  
"Oh, and Fraser", Frannie said. He turned back.  
"It's good to have you back."  
Fraser smiled again. He didn't know how to put it. "But I'm not", he replied. "I'm not back, I'm visiting."  
He put on his hat, turned around and left.

Benny dropped by a little diner he'd never been before. He didn't eat much, he wasn't very hungry. When he was done eating, he just sat there for a while with his hat beside him, looking out the window. He watched people passing by. He even recognized a man who had been his neighbour when he had still lived in that apartment with Dief. For a second Fraser thought about running out and saying hello, but then the man turned his head and looked through the window, right at Fraser. He didn't seem to recognize him. A moment later, the man was gone. Fraser sighed and looked at the empty seat opposite him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a postcard. It was the postcard Ray Vecchio had sent him once. Fraser had been carrying it in his pocket ever since he had heard of Ray's death. He read it again, then looked at the picture of them. He smiled.  
"Why didn't you tell her about me?", he heard a voice.  
"I beg your pardon?", he replied while looking up at the seat opposite him that was now occupied by Ray Vecchio.  
"Francesca. Why didn't you tell her? She's my sister", Vecchio explained in a high voice.  
"Well", Benny said. "She might not be able to see you." He paused, then added: "Believe me, I have experience with that."  
Ray frowned. "Now what does that mean?!"  
"Oh never mind. It's just that, maybe you only exist in my head."  
"How's that? I'm sitting here, we're talking. You can see me."  
Fraser looked around inconspicuously. Some of the other guests were looking at him and quickly looked away when their eyes met.  
"Yes, and obviously I'm the only one", Fraser said through clenched teeth. He glanced at his watch.  
"Oh dear, I'll be late", he noted. "I have to get to the theater to pick up Mr. Tennant."  
When he looked up again, Ray was gone. So, Fraser put away the postcard, paid, took his hat and moved on.  
Since he decided to take a taxi, he was only a few minutes late when he got to the theater. Tennant was already waiting outside, not looking particularly happy.

**--**

Leaning against the wall of the theater building, Geoffrey looked at his watch. It was still early enough to catch a plane back to Toronto. He calculated roughly how much time it would take him to get his things from the hotel and then get to the airport. Just then, a taxi arrived and stopped in front of the theater. Geoffrey screwed up his eyes in order to see who was inside. It was the officious mountie. And he was smiling friendly. How could this guy be smiling, goddamnit?! This was awful. Geoffrey shook his head while walking over to the taxi and got inside.  
"Good evening, Mr Tennant", Fraser said in an overly friendly way as the taxi drove off. "How was your time at the theater?"  
Geoffrey chuckled.  
„It was a nightmare", he said annoyed.  
Fraser's smile disappeared and was replaced by a more neutral expression.  
"Oh really? I'm sorry to hear that, sir. I hope nothing bad happened."  
"Yeah well, their Romeo seems to think they're doing The Last Action Hero and he has absolutely no talent. I mean, I've seen bad actors, but this guy… I really don't know how he could get the role in the first place. Even the group of unemployed people I'm working with back in New Burbage can do better than that. And they've never acted before!"  
Fraser scratched his forehead.  
"You work with a group of unemployed people?", the mountie asked surprised.  
"I…I kinda work on King Lear with them", Geoffrey stumbled. "It's just supposed to give them something to do, you know? It's some kind of charity thing. I don't know. I was asked to do it, so I do it."  
"So, I guess it's a good thing, Geoffrey."  
Geoffrey, who was looking out the window, noticed that these words hadn't been spoken by Fraser. He immediately recognized Oliver's voice and turned his head. The former artistic director was sitting between him and Fraser.  
"That doesn't mean I like doing it!", Geoffrey said.  
Fraser raised an eyebrow.  
"And it's also good publicity. Something you really need after this weird interview and after the riot you caused at Ellen's home", Oliver continued. "I assume many people think of you as a monster."  
"Well, that was all your fault", Geoffrey replied angrily.  
"My fault?", Fraser repeated puzzled.  
"No, not your fault", Geoffrey assured him.  
Fraser looked relieved.  
"Well, I didn't walk into Ellen's house with a sword", Oliver explained calmly.  
"It was a prop!", Geoffrey responded even more angrily.  
"What was?", Fraser asked in confusion. He looked completely lost now.  
"And you stabbed him with it!", Oliver taunted. "What a stupid idea. That's so childish."  
"Shut up!", Geoffrey exclaimed.  
Fraser winced, the taxi stopped.  
"I'm sorry, sir", Fraser said carefully. "But I think we have reached the hotel."

--

Getting out of the car, Fraser wondered if the rumors about Geoffrey Tennant were actually true. He did seem to be out of his mind from time to time. And these moments of madness were quite scary. The scene in the taxi just now, had been a very good example. Benny watched Geoffrey getting out of the car.  
"You're not coming?", Geoffrey asked through the open window in surprise when he noticed that the mountie stayed in the car.  
"Oh, no. I think I better get back to the consulate. I haven't met the inspector yet."  
Geoffrey ran his tongue along his lower lip.  
"Come on Fraser. You can meet the inspector tomorrow. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude in the taxi…"  
"Oh no, that's not…no need to be sorry. It's just time for me to get back."  
"Right", Geoffrey replied, running his fingers through his hair, obviously thinking.  
"But I really need a beer right now", he went on. "So I'd appreciate it if you accompanied me to the bar. One beer only, I promise. After all, you're my escort right? I don't know anyone here and I could use some company."  
He knelt down to the level of the window and added: "Please Fraser!"  
Of course Fraser couldn't say no now. So he agreed, told the driver that he wouldn't have to wait and got out of the taxi.

A little later, the two men were sitting at the bar in the hotel. Only one other man was there, so the barkeeper wasn't very busy and was with them immediately.  
"Carlsberg", Geoffrey ordered, then looked at Fraser and added: "_Two_ Carlsberg."  
The barkeeper turned around to get the beers but Benny stopped him.  
"No, no beer for me", he said.  
Geoffrey smiled. "Oh come on, just one beer."  
"I can't, I'm on duty."  
"Okay, so what would you like?"  
Fraser scanned the shelves with all the bottles on it.  
"Could I get a glass of milk?", he finally asked.  
The barkeeper raised an eyebrow in confusion but nodded and turned away again.  
"Milk?!", Geoffrey repeated in disbelief.  
"Well", Fraser began the explanation. "Milk includes fat soluble vitamins A, D, E, and K as well as several water soluble vitamins, and all 22 minerals considered to be essential to the human diet."  
"Fascinating", the artistic director responded with little enthusiasm.  
They got their drinks and sat in silence for a while.  
"What's the matter?", Tennant eventually asked, looking at the mountie.  
Benny took a sip of his milk and shrugged. "Nothing. What do you mean?"  
"I can see something's wrong. So what's bothering you?"  
The director was right. Something was bothering him. But was Geoffrey Tennant the right person to talk to? Fraser took another sip.  
"Come on Fraser, what is it?"  
He probably wouldn't stop this until Fraser talked. So the mountie decided to give it a try.  
"Have you ever come back somewhere that should feel like coming home but then it just feels like you're totally out of place?"  
Silence. Benny glanced at Tennant then quickly looked down at his milk. What did he think bothering this man with his problems?  
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…", Fraser apologized but was cut off by Geoffrey.  
"No, it's okay. I know what you mean. Absolutely. I've been in that situation."  
Fraser looked up. "Really? Well, what did you do?"  
Geoffrey drank some beer. "I tried to avoid people", he said, then drank some more. "But then again, I'm not a good example."  
He laughed.  
Benny finished his milk, then waited for the director to finish his beer. By now, two more people, a man and a woman, had come to the bar. They seemed unrelated.  
"Hey, I think she likes you", Geoffrey said, pointing at the woman.  
Fraser's eyes followed Tennant's finger. He slightly waved in the woman's direction whereupon she smiled and waved back.  
"Look", Geoffrey went on. "She's flirting. I think it's your hair."  
Fraser turned to Geoffrey again. "You think she likes my hair?"  
The director nodded. "Women love well kept hair."  
Benny looked at Geoffrey's unkempt, scruffy hair and frowned. So, was he trying to appear particularly unattractive to women?  
"Oh I'm not sure it's the hair that makes the difference", Fraser remarked.  
"No? So, what is it?"  
Fraser did the tongue thing. "The character...mainly."  
"She doesn't know you, Fraser. She doesn't know your character", Tennant noted and finished his beer.  
"Okay, I'm done", he explained, paid and got up. "We can stay if you want. Or I can go and you can stay if you want."  
The mountie shook his head and got up as well.  
"No, I really have to get back to the consulate now", Fraser explained as they walked out of the room and towards the entrance hall where the elevators were located. "Thank you for the milk. I'll see you in the morning. I'll take you to the police station if you don't mind."  
Standing in front of the elevator, the artistic director looked puzzled.  
"Police station?", he asked in confusion.  
"Yes, I've got some friends working there and they'd like to ask you a favor."  
Geoffrey looked even more puzzled. "Me? Why me?"  
A PLING noise announced the elevator had arrived and the doors slid open.  
"Oh, it's a rather long story. Don't worry about it. You'll see tomorrow. I really have to go now or everyone from the consulate will be gone home and then I will have to sleep in front of the building because I don't have a key. So, have a nice evening, sir."  
Tennant wished him a good night and stepped into the elevator. Benny waited until the doors had closed, and then left the building.

Back at the consulate, Fraser saw the young constable who had let him in just leaving the building.  
"Constable Fraser!," the young man said, not looking particularly happy to see him. "I just wanted to lock the doors and leave."  
"I see," Benny replied. He noticed just now that he still didn't know the man's name. "Well, I do not have a key. So if you could just let me in before you lock the doors, I would be grateful."  
The opened the door and waited impatiently until Fraser had stepped inside.  
"I'm afraid you missed the inspector again, though," the constable said. "He left an hour ago since he has an important appointment with the mayor tomorrow morning."  
Fraser nodded. "I understand. Of course he has other priorities. I am certain that I will get to meet him at some point in order to properly introduce myself."  
Benny smiled.  
"Don't touch anything in the inspector's office and don't get up too late tomorrow. Good night," the other constable said harshly, then shut the door.  
Fraser heard the door being locked. He couldn't help but think that this young man was being hostile towards him. But then again, the man didn't really know him and maybe he was just careful. And being careful was a good thing.  
So there he was, all alone in this building. He sighed. Then he walked over to his old office, got the sleeping bag out of the closet and prepared everything for the night. Ten minutes later he lay down next to the desk.

--

"Damn what a mattress," he exclaimed. This was the most comfortable bed he had ever seen. Unfortunately there was no one to share it with. Geoffrey rolled over to the edge of the bed and grabbed a photo that he had placed on the nightstand. He smiled at the sight of Ellen's beautiful face.  
"I should call her," he said to himself and picked up the phone. He dialled her number let it ring once, then hung up. He couldn't call her. It was past 11, she was probably sleeping already. She would just get mad at him if he called her now for no reason. She was fine. But was she also alone? What if? Geoffrey picked up the phone again and started to dial.  
"I should trust her, damn it!", he said and hung up.  
"Yes you should," Oliver agreed.  
"What the…," Geoffrey began and turned around. Oliver was lying right next to him on the bed. "What do _you_ know about that?!", Geoffrey ended the sentence and jumped up.  
"You are the one who slept with her when Ellen and I were together," Geoffrey raved, theatrically waving his hands.  
Oliver just rolled his eyes. „For god's sake, Geoffrey. Do you have to bring that up over and over again?"  
"Well, I didn't bring that up. You started it."  
"I just said you should trust her," the older man said, rolling over so that he was lying on his stomach. "Oh my god, this mattress _is_ amazing."  
Geoffrey bit his tongue, then nodded. "I know. Roll over, you're taking up the whole bed."  
Oliver obeyed and Geoffrey lay down again. For a moment they just lay there, saying nothing. Geoffrey was thinking about Ellen, Oliver was thinking about why he had never had such a comfortable mattress. Finally, Geoffrey reached for the remote and turned on the TV. On TV, there were soldiers running around with guns.  
"Ew", he exclaimed. "A war movie. I hate war movies."

The next morning, Geoffrey was woken up by a knocking. At first he thought it was on TV which was still running. But then he realized that it came from the door. Bleary-eyed he gazed at the alarm clock. 7:30. Way too early to get up. He turned around and closed his eyes but the knocking continued.  
"Mr. Tennant?," he heard Constable Fraser calling. "Are you in there?"  
"My god!", the artistic director mumbled. "I can't believe this."  
"Mr. Tennant?," Fraser repeated. "Are you okay?"  
Grudgingly Geoffrey rolled out of bed and, with the blanket wrapped around him, crawled into the bathroom.  
"Sir, please. We have to get to the police station," Fraser continued calling while Geoffrey half-heartedly brushed his teeth. When he was done, he changed into the clothes he had worm yesterday and then stumbled over to the door.  
"Sir, if there's something wrong, just let me know and I will...," Fraser just said when Geoffrey finally opened the door.  
"Oh," the mountie said bashfully when he saw the director standing in the door. "I hope I didn't wake you."  
"Oh noooo," Tennant lied. "I always get up early to enjoy the sunrise." The sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable. He looked tired and his hair was even messier than the day before.  
"When the hell did you get up?," the director wanted to know.  
Fraser stood perfectly straight, his hat in his hands, his hair well-kept, his red uniform neat and tidy.  
"At five, sir," he replied.  
Geoffrey looked at him as if he was an alien. "Five?," he repeated in disbelief. "Isn't that like...dark?"  
The mountie nodded. "Yes."  
"Insomnia?," Geoffrey asked compassionately.  
„No, dawn is the best time to go fishing."  
"Aaaahhh," Geoffrey replied as if that guy made sense.  
"Yes well. I think we should go now. I assume they are already waiting for us at the police station."

Actually, they were not. They were quite busy at the police station and hadn't expected the two Canadians that early. Yet, they were received overly friendly. By Francesca Vecchio.  
"Hi Frase," she greeted the mountie charmingly while gracefully approaching him.  
"Francesca," Fraser replied politely, purposely trying not to note her rather short shirt.  
"How come you're here so early?," Frannie asked.  
"Dawn is the best time to go fishing," Geoffrey interfered.  
It was just now that she noticed Geoffrey.  
"Oh hi," she addressed him just as charmingly.  
Unlike Fraser, Geoffrey eyed her suspiciously. „Well, good morning," he then said.  
"So you guys went fishing?"  
"No," the men replied in unison.  
Frannie turned to Fraser. "Don't you want to introduce us?"  
"Oh, I'm sorry," he said. "Francesca, this is Geoffrey Tennant. Artistic director and currently under my protection."  
"Lucky man," Frannie commented.  
"And this", Fraser continued now pointing at Francesca. "Is Francesca Vecchio. Civilian Aid at this police station and Ray Vecchio's sister."  
"You want me to get you a cup of coffee?," Frannie offered Geoffrey.  
The director nodded. "That would be nice."  
Instantly, the young women turned around and left to get some coffee.  
"Who's Ray Vecchio?," Geoffrey asked in confusion when she was gone.  
Benny coughed slightly. "Now that's a long story," he answered carefully.  
"Yeah yeah and it takes exactly two hours to tell," Kowalski's voice could be heard from behind them.  
Fraser turned around to face his friend. "Ah Ray. Actually, I wasn't talking about…oh never mind."  
Ray clapped Benny on the shoulder. "You know, I wasn't expecting you so early," he said.  
"See," Geoffrey taunted.  
"But I'm glad you're here," Ray added. "So we can start working. First of all we'll have to let your theater guy in on the case." He turned to Geoffrey. "I guess that's him?"  
Geoffrey crossed his arms in front of his chest.  
"Theater guy is not a proper term," he complained. "I'm an artistic director. I plan, organize and direct…"  
"Yes yes, whatever", Ray cut him off. "So what's going is that we're afraid that Maurizio Schillaci is going to kill the mayor very soon."  
"Schillaci?" Geoffrey repeated. „There's an Antonio Schillaci playing a role in the play I'm supposed to help with."  
Now Ray clapped Geoffrey on the shoulder. "Exactly. That's his son. Sole heir of the Schillaci fortune. We assume that he knows something about this assault. We also know that he talks a bit too much when he's had a few beers."  
"Ray!", Fraser exclaimed looking quite shocked. "Your plan is to intoxicate him in order to make him talk?"  
Kowalski chuckled. "Oh no Fraser. I just need somebody being with him in the inevitable event of Schilacci junior underestimating his consumption of alcohol."  
"Aaahhhh," the mountie said, although he didn't really look like his friend's explanation appeased him.  
"And here's your coffee", Francesca Vecchio announced, joining them again.  
"Frannie, please", Ray said annoyed. "We're having an important conversation here."  
"Woah, sorry for interrupting your important conversation with my unimportant service."  
Sulkily, she returned to her desk.  
"So", Geoffrey said. "All I have to do is to take him out for a few beers?"  
"Kinda," Kowalski confirmed. "We'd equip you with a microphone, of course."  
"Sounds interesting," the artistic director noted.  
Fraser, however, didn't seem to be particularly thrilled.  
"But sir, don't you think that…," he began but was interrupted by Kowalski, who flashed him a glance. "Ah come on Fraser. Do you wanna help catch these guys or do you want to watch the mayor die?"  
Fraser hesitated. "But there must be other options," he suggested.  
"Yes. And we've tried them all. What do you think have I been doing the last three months? We're running out of time!"  
Ray was really passionate about this. So Fraser just stood there and kept quiet.  
Ray turned to Tennant again. "Do you think you can do that?"  
Geoffrey nodded. "As long as I don't have to pay for the drinks myself."  
Kowalski laughed, partly amused, partly relieved.  
"Alright then. I'll inform the Lieutenant and then we'll make a plan. We'll let you know when We're ready. Ok?"  
Geoffrey nodded.  
„Great, do you have a cell phone or something?"  
Geoffrey nodded again. "Want me to give you the number?"  
"Yes, please."  
The director got out his phone.  
"Frannie," Kowalski said to the young woman at the desk next to them. "Could you please write down Mr. Tennant's phone number?"  
A huge smile appeared on Francesca's face. "Of course."


End file.
